Just Me and My Ganja
by scubysnak
Summary: Greg, Sara, and Catherine find something while cleaning Catherine's garage and force Sara into having what they believe is a good time. Drug use mentioned. I don't think they'd ever really do this, but it is funny. Ch 2 up
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em…but I wish I did.

**A/N**: This little work of fiction was inspired by an episode of _Roseanne. _Lyrics are to "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane.

"Cath, when was the last time you cleaned this garage out?" Sara asked as she wiped sweat from her brow.

"It's, uh, been a while."

Greg stood there holding a jacket with built in shoulder pads. "I think my mom had one just like this." He pulled it on and started strutting around the garage.

"I think that jacket was made for you, Greg. You actually have broad shoulders now. And I have to admit, that is a much better look on you than that head piece you put on that belonged to that old Vegas showgirl."

Greg blushed at the memory. "I can't help it if I'm in touch with my feminine side."

"I would strongly suggest you get in touch with your masculine side," Catherine said as she pulled another box down from a shelf and handed it to Sara.

"Why are we even bothering to go through this stuff? We've been at this for hours and you've decided to throw away every single box we've gone through. Can't we just toss them all to the curb?"

"No, Greg. We can't. I didn't label things. If we just start throwing boxes out, I might throw something out that holds a special memory—something that belonged to Lindsey."

Suddenly, Greg let out a loud whoop. "Or another kind of special memory?" He asked as he held up a small baggie.

Catherine gasped when she saw what he had in his hands. Sara's eyes went wide with shock.

"Catherine! Is that what I think it is?"

"That, uh, must have belonged to Eddie." She hoped that Sara and Greg would buy her story.

Greg was laughing hysterically. "Catherine likes the wacky weed! Is your best friend named Mary Jane, Cath?"

"Greg!" Sara interceded on Catherine's behalf. "You're a scientist. I'd expect you to be a little more scientific in your naming of the substance you're holding in your hands."

"So you'd prefer me to say cannabis? Reefer? Pot? Ganja?"

"You two, this is not funny. I have no idea how old this stuff is," Catherine said as she attempted to grab the bag from Greg. "Give me the damn bag, Greg."

"Think this wacky tobacky is any good?" Greg asked Sara.

"I dunno. How long does pot keep?" Sara said as she shrugged her shoulders.

"I never had any around long enough to see if it went bad," Catherine said as she walked away from the pair. She froze in her steps as soon as she realized what she had said. She spun around on her heels and said, "Alright, I've smoked a little weed before. But I didn't inhale!"

Sara looked Catherine like she had three heads. "You've smoked pot?"

"Who hasn't?" Greg said as he opened the bag and held his nose over it.

Sara frowned. "Am I the only person in the world who hasn't smoked pot?"

Greg and Catherine both said, "What?" at the same moment.

Catherine walked toward Sara, "You mean you've never…not once…ever….never….tried pot?"

Sara looked at her incredulously. "Why would I? I don't like being out of control and if I used some sort of drug, I wouldn't be in complete control of my faculties. And I've never met anyone I'd trust to be around—if I did want to do smoke it."

Catherine and Greg both exchanged excited glances before turning toward Sara with smiles plastered on their faces.

"I don't like those smiles. What are you two thinking?"

Catherine walked over and grabbed Sara's arm and started pulling her into the house. Greg was following them.

"Cath, where are we going?"

"To the bathroom."

"Uh, what are we going to do in the bathroom? And why are you two grinning like Cheshire cats?"

Sara found herself pushed into the bathroom and joined by Catherine and Greg.

Catherine took the bag from Greg and set it on the counter.

She pulled the papers out of the bag and pulled a single piece of paper out, creasing it. She reached into the bag and grabbed a pinch of weed and sprinkled it onto the paper. With experienced fingers, Catherine soon rolled a perfect joint.

"How the hell did you do that so quickly?" Greg asked. His eyes were trained on Catherine's quick movements.

"Experience, my dear boy. Experience."

"Uh, someone want to tell me what we're doing in here. And why you're rolling a marijuana cigarette?"

"First of all, Sar, we don't call them marijuana cigarettes. You can call it a doobie," Greg said.

"…a blunt," Catherine offered.

…or a joint," Greg added.

"Okay, then why are you rolling a blunt?" Sara asked, uncertainty tainting her face as the word _blunt_ rolled off her tongue.

"Cause we're gonna smoke, dumbass," Catherine said as she put the joint between her lips and fired it up.

"Cath, I don't think we need…" Sara started.

"OH, sit down and relax, Sidle."

Catherine passed the joint to Greg who took a long hit before holding it out to Sara.

She just stared at the joint in his hand. He shook it in her direction, indicating that she needed to take it.

"I don't want it."

Catherine leaned over and whispered something in Sara's ear, prompting a smile out of the brunette. She reached out unsteadily and took the joint from Greg. "Okay, what do I do now?"

"Smoke it just like you would a cigarette, but hold the smoke in a bit longer," Greg advised her.

Sara held it to her lips and took a quick hit. "Okay, I did it. I don't feel anything. Can I go now?"

"Give it time, girl. Remember what I told you," Cath said as she winked at Sara.

The joint went around the trio several more times.

In the meantime, Sara had sat down in the bathtub. Greg was sitting on the toilet and Catherine was sitting on the floor against the door.

Out of nowhere, Sara suddenly says, "Oh my god! Is this the sink? Am I sitting in the sink? Am I shrinking?"

Greg and Catherine started laughing at her hysterically. Greg was laughing so hard, he rolled off the toilet and onto the floor. This made Catherine scream in delight. She was bouncing against the door laughing and pointing at Greg.

"I am so stoned. Cath, that must've been some good shit you bought," Greg said to the ceiling.

"Nothing but the best my man."

Greg crawled over and sat beside Catherine. They were whispering back and forth, but Sara couldn't understand what they were saying. She kept moving her head side to side, hoping that she'd pick up some details of their conversation—still nothing.

Sara sighed deeply, and slid onto her back, propping her feet on the wall of the tub. "Nobody loves me. It's just me and my ganja."

Greg and Catherine simultaneously broke out in a fit of laughter that was soon interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Mom! Mom! Are you in there? I smelled something burning. What are you doing in there?"

Greg turned and looked at Catherine, before whispering, "Who is that?"

Catherine's eyes went wide with terror. _Lindsey_.

"I think that's Lindsey," Catherine finally said. She crawled to her knees and looked through the keyhole to see who was knocking on the door. "Yeah, it's Lindsey

"Lindsey. Oh my god. Have you ever listened to what her name sounds like? LINZZZEEEE. LINZZZEEEE. Freaky name you gave your kid there, Cath."

Catherine elbowed Greg, who fell over on his side in mock pain.

"Uh, we're just trying to roll Sara's hair sweetie. Greg got the curlers a little too hot and burned some of Sara's hair."

Lindsey had a hard time hearing Catherine's explanation over Sara's singing—way off key.

_One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small _

_And the ones that mother gives you, don't do anything at all;_

_Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall _

_And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you're going to fall;_

_Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar has given you the call;_

_To call Alice, when she was just small._

_When the men on the chessboard get up and tell you where to go;_

_And you've just had some kind of mushroom, and your mind is moving low;_

_Go ask Alice, I think she'll know._

_When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead;_

_And the white knight is talking backwards;_

_And the red queen's off with her head;_

_Remember what the dormouse said,_

_Feed your head, feed your head_

"That's it!" Greg said as he jumped to his feet, swinging the door open. "Your name is Alice now. From now on, you will not be called Lindsey. We will call you---ALICE! ALICE! ALICE!"

Lindsey, now known as Alice, rolled her eyes and huffed up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em…but I wish I did.

A/N: Okay… references are made to a Seinfeld episode and to the Simpsons.

Catherine crawled toward the door and pulled it shut. Greg sank down the door and landed on the floor beside Catherine.

They both sat there staring at the bathtub and the arms flailing in the tub to the tune of "White Rabbit."

"Yo, Sar—you conducting an orchestra over there?" Greg said as he stifled a girlie giggle.

Suddenly, the arms in the tub stopped moving and disappeared—as did the legs. Catherine and Greg watched in silence as Sara lifted her head so that only crown and her eyebrows could be seen. She then reached up and pulled the shower curtain closed.

They heard her moving around in the tub, but didn't say anything. They were both relishing in the fact that they had managed to get Sara Sidle stoned. And they were both disappointed in the fact that they would _never_ be able to tell anyone about it.

The silence was cut by the sound of Sara whispering. Greg crawled closer to the tub so that he could hear whatever she was saying.

"Hello?...Is your refrigerator running?" And then it was followed by giggling. Greg turned and looked at Catherine and made the universal signal for a telephone with his hand to his ear. Catherine crawled toward him so that she could hear what was being said.

"Hello?...Could you please page Mike Hunt?...yes, Mike Hunt….Are you sure? …try one more time….Mike Hunt….okay." More giggling followed the snapping shut of the phone.

Greg and Catherine were both sitting with their chins resting on the edge of the bathtub when they heard the beeping that alerted them to the fact that Sara was making another call.

"Good evening…oh, is it still afternoon?...so sorry…could you patch me through to Gil Grissom?...Yes, thank you…"

Greg reached up and pulled the shower curtain back and attempted to grab the phone away from Sara.

Her eyes lit up as the person she was calling finally picked up. "Good evening, Mr. Grissom. This is Maya Buttreeks…that's right, Maya Buttreeks…do you have Prince Albert in a can?"

Greg could only shake his head as she slammed the phone shut and started cackling at her prank phone call. All went silent when her phone began to ring. She just stared at it. Greg stared at it. Catherine stared at it.

"Answer it," Catherine finally said.

"I'm not answering it," Sara answered quickly.

"You have to answer it before it goes to voice mail," Greg attempted to reason with her.

She flipped the phone open and attempted to change her voice, "Halo!...Uh, yes, this is Maya Buttreeks…lemme see, hold on," Sara put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. "Are either of you Homer Sexual?" Greg and Catherine both started laughing hysterically. "What's so damn funny? Someone called and wants to talk to Homer Sexual. Are either of you going by the name Homer Sexual now?"

Catherine grabbed the phone from Sara's hands. "Hello?"

"Catherine? First of all, why is Sara calling me with such childish pranks? Second of all, why does she sound like she's, well, uh, stoned?"

Greg snatched the phone out of Catherine's hand and attempted to muster up a calm, sober voice. He didn't succeed. "My dear Grissom, our girl Sara is so fuckin' high. Man, she's like so happy she's not even on cloud nine. She's like on cloud fourteen. She's not even flying the kite anymore, she's riding it."

Catherine snatched the phone back from Greg. "Gil? You still there?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Yes, I'm still here. Was that Greg?"

"Yes, that was Greg."

"Did he just tell me that Sara is high?"

"Sara? High? Come on, Griss. You know Sara better than that. Do you really think she'd get high?"

"I also know that she's with you and Greg. I don't put anything past the two of you."

"Gil Grissom. Are you suggesting that we got your prodigy stoned?"

"Yes."

Catherine started to giggle. Sara leaned over the side of the tub and took her phone from Catherine, wagging a finger in her face and saying, "No soup for you!"

Sara lowered her voice and tried to sound sexy as she said, "Hello, Gil."

"Sara, are you stoned?"

She spoke slowly and huskily. "Yes. Yes, Gil. I'm stoned. Mmmmm…Grissom?"

"Yes, Sara?"

"I'm in the tub."

"You're in the room with Greg and Catherine and you're in the tub?"

"It's a big tub. There's room for you. Want to join us?"

Catherine's eyes went wide when she realized what Sara had just said. She took the phone from the brunette once again.

"Gil? … Gil?" There was no answer.

"Fuck! He hung up. Sara! You invited him to come over here."

Greg dismissed Catherine's idea with a wave of his hand. "Grissom would never show up here. Puh-lease! You're worrying about nothing. I'm hungry. You got anything to eat in this joint?"

"Hehehehe…you said joint!" Sara said as she climbed out of the tub and added, "I'm a little hungry, too. Let's find something to eat." She grabbed Catherine's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Time to feed us, Cath."

With their buzz quickly dissipating, the trio found only peanut butter and bologna as suitable sandwich makings.

"Cath, I don't eat bologna. It's meat. Got anything else I can put on there?"

"There's some cereal in the cabinet, too."

"Awesome! Peanut butter and cereal sandwich. What kinds do we have?"

"Look and see, Sara. You know where the cereal is."

"Right," Sara said as she opened the pantry and found Cap'n Crunch, Fruity Pebbles, and Shredded Wheat.

"I think I'll have a little of each of these on there." Catherine slid her two pieces of bread already slathered with peanut butter. Sara sprinkled some of each of the cereals on the bread and smashed both pieces together. She was just finishing her "sandwich" when Catherine's doorbell rang.

All three looked at each other. "Who could that be?" Greg asked as he raised his eyebrows in Sara's direction.

"What? Why ya' lookin' at me? Why would I know who is at Catherine's door? It's her house. She has to know who it is. So Cath," Sara said as she turned to her, "who's at the door?"

"If you stop talking a mile a minute, I'll get the door and see who it is. Chances are we already know who it is though."

Catherine left the kitchen and went through the living room to open the front door. There, she was greeted by a smiling Grissom holding up a DVD. "I brought Pink Floyd! Where's the grass?"

Grissom brushed past Catherine and walked into the house. Catherine was still standing there with her hand on the door and her mouth hanging open. Grissom had just asked her where the grass was.

"Lindsey! Pack your bag. You're going to stay with your Aunt Nancy tonight."


End file.
